Sarus
cranes are seriously tall birds towering about 5.9feet, but rather than
intimidating presence they are self effacing to the point of shy. If you are
travelling in north India by train, in particular the rice belt of UP (it also
is the State bird of UP), keep an eye out for Sarus cranes, you are very likely
to see a pair or atleast hear the characteristic trumpet calls. Sarus is
India’s only resident breeding crane specie and prefers marshy wetlands, the
name Sarus comes from Sanskrit ‘Sarhans’ meaning birds of lake. These are
Vulnerable species and are found in patches of central India and limited regions
in East Asia and strips of northern Australia. Sarus crane (Grus antigone) was once a well known
sight in India, though in recent times it has declined rapidly. A survey in
1980s pegged the numbers at 12,000 while by late 1990s it had reduced to as low
as 2000. I am not privy to latest figures, it must be precariously low. Less
than 2000 is not Vulnerable, it is Critically Endangered, I guess IUCN needs to
update on this one. The main cause of decline seems to be wetland destruction,
these birds are generally found where industrial and urban sprawl has not taken
place, and where agricultural practices are still traditional. The shift to
cultivation of sugarcane, indiscriminate use of pesticide and criss-crossing
power cables seem to be having a detrimental effect. Cranes are indicator
species, indicating the health of wetlands and ecosystem.
The
zoological name Grus antigone is
quite interesting. In Greek mythology Antigone is the daughter of Oedipus, she defied
masculine authority, though she ended up killing herself. Fidelity is one
factor that has seen to it that this bird is treated with care since time
immemorial by Indians, not to forget it was the pain of the Sarus crane that
inspired Valmiki to write Ramayan.
British crusaders though had different take on affairs of the world (they still
do, with ‘sexed up’ versions!!) and went on shooting spree, even keeping
records as matter of pride. There is a novel by Khushwant Singh I Shall Not Hear the Nightingale wherein
the central character is instigated to kill the Sarus crane “…if you are going
to funk shooting birds, you will not do much when it comes to shooting
Englishmen. You will say ‘why kill this poor chap, his widow and children will
weep’ or ‘his mother will be sad’…this is what is meant by baptism by blood;
get used to the idea of shedding it. Steel your heart against sentiments of
kindness and pity. They have been undoing of our nation. We are too soft.”
Jehangir
the Mughal king was an avid observer of avian specie so much so many have
pointed out that he would have done remarkably well, and happier man, as the
head of BNHS or curator of a natural history 
museum. He had a keen temperament
of a scientist, he tried personal observations and experimental approaches to
understand natural phenomenon. Here his observation of nesting Sarus cranes “…a
strange thing is that on the other days the pair of Saras cranes took five or
six turns sitting on their eggs, but during this twenty four hour period while
it was raining and cold, the male sat on the eggs to keep them warm
continuously from dawn until midday. From the midday until the morning of the
next day the female sat continuously –lest the eggs are damaged or spoiled by
the cold while they were getting up and sitting down. In short, what a human
being comprehends by the guidance of his reason animals do by an instinct made
innate in them by eternal wisdom. Even stranger is the fact that at the beginning
they kept the eggs next to each other under their breasts, but after fourteen
or fifteen days had passed they made enough space between the eggs so there
wouldn’t be too much heat and eggs wouldn’t be spoiled…” (from The
Jahangirnama)
museum. He had a keen temperament
of a scientist, he tried personal observations and experimental approaches to
understand natural phenomenon. Here his observation of nesting Sarus cranes “…a
strange thing is that on the other days the pair of Saras cranes took five or
six turns sitting on their eggs, but during this twenty four hour period while
it was raining and cold, the male sat on the eggs to keep them warm
continuously from dawn until midday. From the midday until the morning of the
next day the female sat continuously –lest the eggs are damaged or spoiled by
the cold while they were getting up and sitting down. In short, what a human
being comprehends by the guidance of his reason animals do by an instinct made
innate in them by eternal wisdom. Even stranger is the fact that at the beginning
they kept the eggs next to each other under their breasts, but after fourteen
or fifteen days had passed they made enough space between the eggs so there
wouldn’t be too much heat and eggs wouldn’t be spoiled…” (from The
Jahangirnama)
(the
picture of painting herein is a miniscule portion of a Pahari miniature
(1750-60), taken at National Museum, Delhi)
Stopping by the
Woods
I
was reading Stopping by the Woods on a
Sunday Morning, it was one of the earliest articles written (1930) by Salim
Ali where he exhibits skills required in tracking bird nest. He meticulously
locates nests of Purple-rumped Sunbird, Yellow-eyed Babbler, Tailorbird,
Fantail Flycatcher, Common Iora and Baya in the outskirts of Mumbai. Notes
Salim Ali “…the trick of locating nests, therefore lies not so much in
traversing miles of likely country as in keeping an ever-watchful eye as you slowly
saunter along, and patiently waiting for the birds to give away their secrets
of their own accord”. He also writes “we shall select some Sunday morning late
in August for a jaunt into the exquisite country surrounding the city. The
heaviest blast monsoon is blown over, and we may now look forward without undue
optimism to fine weather. The air is delightfully cool, the sky thinly
overcast; banks of threatening nimbus drift across the heavens resulting only
in occasional drizzles which help to subdue the uncomfortable steamy vapour
that begins to rise immediately after the sun peeps out of his cloudy veil”….
“A monsoon ramble through the woods will delight anyone who has the eyes to see
and the soul to wonder at the romance and charm of this other world within our
world. The electrification of the suburban railways has thrown the delightful
country in the environs of Bombay within the comfortable and speedy reach of
everybody. To the lover of the out-of-doors, the opportunities are such as
might rightly be the envy of the less fortunate dwellers of almost every one of
the other large cities in the 
country. Yet, how few are there who will
sacrifice their Sunday morning sleep.”
Reading this piece
ofcourse reminded me of Robert Frost, the title is undoubtedly influenced by
one of his famous poems Stopping by the
Woods on a Snowy Evening. The last few lines you could find at the table
side of Nehru at Teenmurthi Bhavan indeed that is how I first heard about this
poem.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods
these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go
before I sleep.
